


Forgotten Promise

by Blue_Sparkle



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Depression, Fall of Overwatch, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Open Ending, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Wedding Rings, marriage trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29296407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/pseuds/Blue_Sparkle
Summary: All Jack wants is to catch a break, less international incidents, and time away from the job to really try and fix the straining relationship he has with Gabriel. A little hard to do, when your husband is preoccupied with said international incidents. And when your entire life is about to blow up
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Kudos: 16





	Forgotten Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Well this has been sitting in my WIP folder since 2019... a simpler time haha. I kept forgetting that I had it and then decided today that I will finish it! And I did! Woo!
> 
> I hope you enjoy two sad dads who need a nap and a marriage councillor but all they get is sadness

Jack stared at the open fridge numbly, fingers clenched around the metal of the handle, the material creaking faintly under the assault. He couldn’t remember why he’d opened it in the first place. Gabriel’s angry voice droned in and out at the back of his mind and he automatically traced the hard clacking of heels against the kitchen tiles as the man walked back and forth in the modest space. 

Was it Thursday? If it was, then Jack would usually try to whip up a meal from the lovingly handwritten cookbook Gabriel’s grandmother had gifted him when it became clear that their relationship was serious. But if it was, then why was Gabriel currently listening configurations of agents that were available to be sent out to the latest crisis, and agents that under no circumstances could be trusted to handle it right without dying or messing up. Two groups with near complete overlap.

“If Shimada was still here I would- There’s no use, I know there’s somebody who is feeding tactical information to the press so those thugs can react before I figure out how to send out somebody to deal with this! Change our so-called outside contacts, Jack, I don’t care what prime minister what’s-his-face wants, we can’t have anything like journalists anywhere near us. Not for this.”

This particular conversation had been going on for at least… two days now, without interruptions it felt like. If it wasn’t the situation in Greece then it was their arguments about what to do about losing their best agents or how their hands were tied or what measure to take next to keep up the shrinking hope of finding Ana alive. There were no solutions for anything, making Jack shut off and Gabe more agitated in his anger and frustration. Neither of them was good at giving up but there was only so much they could do.

“-even Oxton would be good. Say what you will about her at office parties but that girl knows how to be quick and discreet. Shouldn’t have allowed for her to leave-”

There had been situations like this before, problems that had Jack and Gabriel argue back and forth in their mutual need to find the best possible way to fix things. Usually calm and collected, it was rare that voices were raised. And then not at each other, but to vent out frustrations at a common enemy. But not… 

Gabriel slammed his fist on the counter, cursing under his breath and Jack winced. Their space was one of the few areas they had a say in when it came to designing it. It was their home; they weren’t supposed to bring work into it. Of course matters could be pressing, but Jack hadn’t realized how much the little oasis of peace had been necessary to him. Their home had stopped becoming a retreat from work sometime between when Reinhardt had retired and Ana had been declared dead. 

There was no sour cream in their fridge, as far as he could tell. He could probably go without but-

Gabriel’s voice became a steady buzz in Jack’s building migraine.

There were probably some pills left that might fight it but Gabriel’s soothing hands against his scalp worked better. Or a quiet night in. Not something he’d get while both of them were so preoccupied with international disasters. 

“Gabriel, can you just shut up for a moment?”

Jack reached for a bottle of orange juice inside the fridge and felt Gabriel stiffen near him. 

“What, you’ve got a better suggestion?”

The painkillers were barely adequate for Jack’s enhanced metabolism but they would have to do. He tossed several in his mouth and chased them down with the juice, drinking straight from the bottle and ignoring how Gabriel’s eyes narrowed at the habit. He didn’t have the patience to reach for a cup right now. 

“No,” he said after putting the bottle on the counter. “Listen, Gabe, I’ve had four hours of press conference and then calls with various diplomats today. Can we just not talk about any of this anymore tonight?”

Gabriel crossed his arms, his nostrils flaring. He was keeping his anger in check but Jack could tell his patience was at a low point. It was rare that he did, but Gabriel absolutely would lash out at him in lack of any other outlet. 

“You want me to ignore several terrorist cells?”

Jack rubbed his temples. Neither of them had even gotten changed out of their uniforms yet. There used to be a time when that was the first thing to go when the day was over, traded for comfortable clothes that really did make them look like civilians. Any glimpse of his own body greeted him with Overwatch blue, mocking him and reminding him that there was no escape from his role anymore. 

“Of course not! Just- I want a break. For tonight, lets forget about everything until tomorrow.”

Gabriel’s stance didn’t relax but his expression smoothed out a little. 

“You know we don’t get to do that. We’re the leaders of the only organisation that can put an end to this global shit show. Nobody else can take out Talon and keep the world from plunging into the next Omnic Crisis.”

The edge of the counter dug into Jack’s back as he leaned against it, hoping to keep himself from sagging down further. His armour felt too heavy and Gabriel was only two steps away but felt impossibly far. 

“I don’t want to take care of the world right now,” he muttered. He just wanted them to stop pouring their entire life into everyone else. “I can’t go on like this Gabe.”

Gabriel watched him for a few moments, with something akin to pity. 

“Right,” Gabriel said, looking down at Jack’s feet for a moment. Then he sighed, grabbed a box of granola bars from one of the shelves and turned to leave. 

“Where are you going?” Jack asked, voice much too small for his liking. The distance between them tearing at him in a near physically painful way. He only wanted to rest and lean against Gabriel’s body as they held each other. Just enough to recharge and feel ready for the world again. It had always helped before to remember that he had Gabriel. 

“I’m leaving you to rest or sleep or whatever you need. You clearly need it. I’ll be in my office trying to figure out how to get around official channels for all this.”

There was no accusation in Gabriel’s tone, but Jack’s mind helpfully provided him with it instead. Of course he would be the first one to break down in exhaustion as Gabriel got his hands dirty. Never mind that Jack had to take the full burnt of the consequences of anything they did while Gabriel could focus on what he thought was right. 

With a heavy sigh tearing from his lungs Jack fell into the nearest available chair by their dinner table. He couldn’t even quite remember the last time they had taken a meal there like this. It had been common in both their families, a part of childhood they shared though they’d grown hundreds of miles apart. At least once a week the entire family would sit at the dinner table, share food and laugh and catch up. For a while it had been the entire Strike Team, then just him and Gabriel and later varying members of Overwatch. It had been lively and good, and always Jack could look across the table and smile at his husband. 

They hadn’t done this in longer than he dared think too hard about. His mother would have been disappointed, ever the staunch believer in good meals being a balm for any argument. And maybe not taking time for all those little things that made a normal marriage run was why they were here now. Too stressed out, too preoccupied with the weight of the world on their shoulders. Barely more than an overfamiliar leader and subordinate with blurred lines regarding the power structure of their own organisation. 

Jack fumbled for the chain that hung around his neck, out of view at all times. His dog tags were attached to it, as well as the wedding ring he usually couldn’t wear on his hand. It wasn’t practical with his uniform or in active battle, but he had always been loath to leave it behind. Unhooking it from the chain Jack carefully laid the little thing out in his palm, so fragile looking despite the sturdy alloy Gabriel had chosen. 

He really hadn’t thought they’d end up in the shit like this, back when they placed rings on each other’s hands with their friends and family cheering on, no press in sight. 

It represented their hopes and dreams, their commitment to each other, their love. Despite everything Jack still loved Gabriel, and he was sure that Gabe felt the same about him, underneath all the pain and stress they were under. It was worth fighting for. Once Gabriel returned Jack would make an attempt to fix it. Fuck Overwatch, if it came to it. Someone else could put out the fires for once as he tried to mend whatever had cracked between him and Gabriel. He had done enough for the world, he deserved a break to dedicate some time to his marriage after all. 

The annoying beep of his communicator tore Jack from his thoughts. He sneered slightly, but placed the ring down to accept the call. 

“-ommander Morrison, it’s an emergency,” he heard immediately. His secretary sounded close to tears again, and Jack already knew that his planned down time was interrupted. 

“Who is it now,” Jack asked with a sigh. 

“The Prime Minster… he’s… insisting that-“

“I’ll be right there,” Jack promised with the best attempt at soothing tone, already getting up to make his way back to the main part of Overwatch HQ. He’d deal with his marriage after this it seemed.

*

The man half stumbled half glid through debris, ignoring jagged concrete and crumbling walls. His limbs kept giving out as if he didn’t quite have a grasp on keeping him body in a solid corporeal shape and smoke rose from him, mingling with the smoke left by the explosions and resulting fires. 

Most of the Overwatch HQ had blown up, leaving nothing behind. There hadn’t been many people around today, what with the recent scandals, and with the delayed explosions most would have gotten out. Maybe. 

Gabriel didn’t really count himself among the survivors, given that he barely could count himself as alive at all. His coal red eyes skimmed over the destroyed hallways as he made his way towards the private quarters, one of the few wings that hadn’t blown up directly and thus was mostly standing. Perhaps it wasn’t structurally sound anymore, but it wasn’t like there could be any more damage done to him after all. 

Without the ever-present emergency lights everything looked eerie and wrong. The power supply must have finally given up after the other part of the building went up in flames, but other than this and the distant shrill of sirens Gabriel could nearly imagine that he was just returning home too late at night. 

Their rooms were mostly untouched. A few cracks ran through the drywall and the distant explosions had been strong enough to knock over a few stay items. It still looked exactly the same as any other day, with dishes in the sink and Jack’s clothes lying on their bed from when he had gotten changed out of his uniform. 

The kitchen especially looked as if nothing was wrong at all, save the dim lights. There was the orange juice and the painkillers Jack had chugged just a few hours ago, there was the plate Gabriel had taken out to make a sandwich and then forgotten about. If Jack had stayed here, rather than be in his office for some damn reason, nothing would have happened to him at all. No explosions, no blood running over his face as he tried to make sense of the sudden chaos. 

Everything was exactly the same. 

For a moment Gabriel felt as if he could breathe again, feel the air actually enter his lungs in any meaningful way. It could be alright, perhaps, he could find Jack and try to figure out what the fuck this was about, if Jack had known about this. His faith in the Strike Commander was still intact, his faith in Jack Morrison somewhat more so. It was fixable, they were fixable. He just needed to find Jack in the surrounding area where he no doubt was hiding out currently, convince him of the betrayals within their midst. Once Jack believed that Gabriel knew what he was doing they could come up with a plan to take down those who had destroyed everything they’d worked for. 

Then he saw the ring. 

It took Gabriel a moment to really recognize it, as he hadn’t seen it lying around away from its owner for years and years. But once he stepped closer there was no way to deny that this was the ring he’d agonized over picking out all those years ago. 

It lay on the table, solitary and glinting faintly, left behind after Jack had gone off to do god only knew what in his office. 

Slowly Gabriel moved to the table and reached out for it, claws dragging deep gorges into the wood. He had no care for this, it wasn’t as if the owners of this kitchen would ever have use for it again. 

He brought up the ring to his face, looking at it without moving a muscle. Smoke rose from his hand, enveloping the ring and dragging it into the mass of nano machines that now made up his body. 

So this is how things went. 

How very Morrison, to make such a decision and leave the ring behind without even telling Gabriel. No doubt he’d prepared some kind of speech, some noble gesture of taking his things and leaving. All but say what he had to say to Gabriel’s face immediately. 

At this Gabriel finally permitted himself to sneer. He could feel his teeth sharpening, his body heating up as smoke billowed around him. 

Fine then. He would keep the ring, keep it until he’d hunted down Morrison and finished the job the bombs couldn’t quite handle. 

The crack of fabric filled the small kitchen, and a billowing mass of smoke rose up and away, leaving behind the empty home of two dead men.


End file.
